'And was that money intended to buy your way into a partnership?'
Hester choked on wrath. She and Crispin had gone alone into the office while Demetrios waited outside. 'You've been listening at keyholes to what's none of your business,' she spat. 'How low can you get?'
'Much lower, if I have to,' he answered unashamedly. 'Remember, what my wife does is my business!'
'But I'm not your wife yet,' she reminded him sweetly.
'Mmm,' he swerved to avoid a jaywalker and swore under his breath, 'we'll talk about that when we're back at your place—a sensible discussion's impossible in these circumstances. Is there anything to eat at your flat?'
'Baked beans on toast,' she offered icily. 'I don't go in for candlelit dinners a deux.'
'Then my place, I think.' Abruptly he changed direction at the next traffic lights and headed for Mayfair.
'Here it comes!' sighed Hester in a world-weary way. 'The big seduction scene. You men are so unoriginal—the same old act every time…'
'Not in the least.' The change in his tone was striking and again she peeped, to find a smile of pure amusement about his mouth. 'I shall take a virgin to my marriage bed—by the way, you are one, aren't you?'
'That's for me to know and you to find out.' Hester tried to conceal her embarrassment beneath an airy layer, but her cheeks had reddened, and then, 'Oh!' as his hand found her knee and his fingers trailed upwards. 'Cut that out!' and she slapped hard at his fingers.
'Yes,' he murmured, 'I think you are,' drawling it back at her. 'You put up a sophisticated front, but underneath it you're scared to death.' She saw the white flash of his teeth as his mouth parted in a knowing smile. 'There's an automatic withdrawal, a shrinking away from the unknown, by the inexperienced.'
'Then I bet you've not shrunk from anything since you were sixteen,' she snapped waspishly. 'Would you like me to produce a medical certificate?'
'No,' he shook his head and she caught the gesture in the darkness. 'I don't like intruders on my property, even doctors. Now, be quiet until we get to the hotel.'
'Your property!' Hester's voice rose on a squeal of outrage. 'If I live to be ninety, I'll never be your propert…' and she finished on a yelp of anguish as his fingers and thumb found the sensitive spots on her knee and squeezed remorselessly.
'I said be quiet!' He released her knee and she took a deep breath—his property, indeed! She'd show him! He'd have to learn she wasn't some cowed female to add to his harem and to be shut away somewhere private and labelled 'For private entertainment'! Vilma's remark still niggled at her, making her uneasy and on edge.
'You live around here,' she said when the silence between them grew too much to bear.
'In the Thalassis hotel,' he tossed the words across to her while he negotiated the traffic. 'It's a new one, only built last year, and I have the top floor, what we'd call the penthouse suite in the States.'
'Oh my, I am going up in the world!' She made it sound as nasty as possible. 'No wonder baked beans on toast in my bedsit was beneath you—no room service. I hope you don't expect either me or your daughter to live in a place like that. Me, I don't matter, I could live anywhere, surroundings don't mean much to me, but it's not at all the right place for a child. A child needs a home, not a hotel.'
'Then we'll find a house.' He sounded as though he was humouring her. 'Somewhere quiet, by the river, with a large garden. How would that suit?'
'Better,' she admitted grudgingly, and then, because she was cross with both him and herself, cross, worried and nearly at the end of her tether, 'What are you going to do, rub your magic lamp and summon your private genie to build one for you?'
Demetrios' hand reached out to pat her knee comfortingly. 'No, buy one. Stop being so uptight, Hester. I've told you, I shan't seduce you, we're just going to have a quiet, simple supper and a talk about the future. You can even have baked beans on toast, if you wish.'
CHAPTER FOUR
On Monday evening, Hester climbed the steps to the Poplar flat. She climbed wearily, it had been a busy day, but physical tiredness was only part of the reason for her lagging steps. Every step she took nowadays seemed to lead her further into deception, and tonight would be the worst of all. Her mind ran back over what she intended to say, and then she decided to play it by ear. It wasn't much good rehearsing only one side of a conversation.
Flo greeted her enthusiastically. 'I thought you'd never get here, Hes! Has Mia told you the news?'
'You're off to Switzerland? It's all arranged?' Hester summoned up a look of surprise. 'Mia's managed to fix it for you?'
' 'S'right.' Flo leaned back on her pillows with a wide smile of satisfaction. 'One of the benefits of having a staff nurse in the family,' she tapped the side of her nose significantly. 'Mia knows the consultants, the nobs—talks to them in their own language.' Hester kept a straight face while she thought of her little foster-sister 'hobnobbing with the nobs'. It was a fantastic invention, one that only Flo would have believed—but meanwhile her foster-mother was continuing. 'There's ways of getting round the regulations, you know, and one of the nobs has found one. Something to do with a private health scheme—I don't know much about it 'cos I've always been on the National Health myself, but they've put me on the books of this private thing, even though I haven't paid a penny…'
So that was how Mia had explained it! Hester covered a sigh of relief with a spurious yawn. It also helped to cover her wide grin of triumphant amusement. 'Sorry, Flo,' she apologised. 'It's been a busy day.'
'But you'll come and see me off tomorrow, won't you?' Flo pleaded. 'They've even arranged for Mia to come with me and stay a few days while I settle in— saves money for them, doesn't it? They don't have to send one of those expensive private nurses just for the journey.'
'There won't be any journey if you don't stop bouncing about like a two-year-old!' Hester fished in her bag for the ritual paperback and handed it over. 'Calm down and read that while I bring you a cup of tea. I'll have mine with Mia in the kitchen.'
'Clever of me, don't you think?' Mia giggled as she and Hester sat at the kitchen table. 'Isn't it a good job she's as innocent as a newborn lamb? She believed every word I told her!'
'She wants to.' Hester had a sudden flash of insight. 'I think she knows.'
'Impossible,' Mia shook her head. 'I've not said a word about you, your mother or the money, and nobody else knows.'
'I don't mean that,' Hester found it difficult to put into words. 'I mean, I think she knows it's more serious than the doctors have said. I think she knows she might die.'
Mia's thin shoulders dropped, then she straightened them and cheered up. 'You could be right, Hes, but I'm not going to think about that side of it. I've got seven days' holiday due to me and I'm taking them so I can go with her and stay for a few days—how do I get in touch with you if I have any news?'
'Bit difficult.' Hester stirred her tea vigorously, frowning at the little mound of bubbles that broke up and swirled to the sides of the cup. 'I'm thinking of changing my bedsit.'
'Good for you! That place you're living in is claustrophobic, you're living on top of yourself— What's the new address?'
'That's the trouble, I don't know.' All Hester's carefully thought out excuses died the death. It was as she had feared, Mia wasn't asking the right questions, but she wasn't the only one to have flashes of insight; Mia had one bang on target.
'It's a man, isn't it? Go on, tell me, Hes. I'm a bit more modern and elastic than Flo. Who is he, and does he want you to move in with him?'
'He wants to marry me, but…' Hester wished she could make a clean breast of it all, not get bogged down in half-truths and evasions, but she daren't. She'd have to give a name and Mia would immediately connect Thalassis—money—Thalassis; her foster-sister was no fool, nor would she accept the money under those conditions—it would pull the curtains on Flo's going to the Swiss clinic.
'And you think you've not known him long enough?' Mia asked judiciously. 'What
are you going to do, have a trial run to see if you get on?'
Hester was shocked by the realisation that at least one of her ideas about Mia was way off beam—her foster-sister might be said to be bordering on the permissive, but perhaps that was better than going into a Victorian spasm!
'No-o,' she gazed at the tablecloth moodily, 'I thought I'd go away for a bit, sort things out—see if it's like the book says—"bigger than both of us". I know—ring Crispin's, but don't worry if they can't get hold of me straight away, in fact, unless it's an emergency don't bother to ring me, I'll keep in touch with you. How's that?'
'Great!' Mia smiled. 'I'm glad to hear you're human after all. I suppose it was you winning that scholarship and going off to that posh school, you never seemed the same afterwards, no games in the park, no boyfriends… I know you always said it was because you had too much homework, but you never seemed as happy as you were before you went there. Be happy now, Hes.'
Hester's wedding went off without a hitch—but then, as she told herself grimly, the simpler the wedding, the less likelihood of hitches, and this, her wedding, was simplicity brought to a fine point. Demetrios had sent the Rolls, plus a uniformed chauffeur to bring her to the register office, he'd met her on the steps of the building, pinned a spray of tawny yellow and green orchids to the shoulder of her cream linen two-piece, exchanged her necklet of leaves for a string of pearls— putting the near gold little ornament carelessly into his pocket—and then they had gone into the marriage waiting area.
There were no guests, not even a friendly face—the witnesses were a couple brought out of the office staff, and their rather bored expressions made Hester think they'd seen it all before—too many times! She, who had been brought up in a tight community of friends and neighbours—all energetically enthusiastic and determined to make the most of any occasion, she couldn't help feeling let down. She'd been to a great many weddings—participated in the weeks of preparation beforehand, been a bridesmaid and whooped it up at receptions and the 'knees-ups' afterwards. Compared with even the poorest she'd known, this, her own, was incredibly drab—it didn't mean anything to her and she didn't feel married. When she and Demetrios emerged into the street once more, there was only the wide, heavy gold band on her finger to assure her it had all been real.
'Smile!' Demetrios made it a warning whisper out of the corner of his mouth as they came down the steps after the pitiful ceremony, and she raised her eyebrows at the sight of a couple of photographers.
'You arranged this?' she said without moving her lips which were stretched into a painful smile.
'No.' The flashes went off and she blinked involuntarily. His hand was under her elbow and he steered her competently to the waiting car. 'Somebody must have been in during the week and read the notices—the gossip column writers keep an eye on things like that—looking for something worth printing. Those two have a scoop, although they won't be sure until the pictures have been processed and gone through the hands of the writers.'
With a brusque nod, he dismissed the waiting chauffeur, who wandered off into oblivion, like a bit part player leaving the stage, and held the car door open for her.
'Ugh!' Hester gave a little shiver of distaste and then comforted herself with the thought that neither Flo nor Mia would see tomorrow's papers. 'But newspaper photographs are always bad—I shan't be recognised, thank heavens!'
'You seem ashamed of what you're doing.' Demetrios sounded more amused than offended.
'I'm certainly not dancing for joy,' she snarled softly, 'and that reminds me—' She put her fingers to her throat where the pearls rested. They felt smooth and silky but incredibly heavy and cold. 'May I have my necklet back, please?'
'It means that much to you?' and at her nod, he drove in complete silence until he reached the house where she had her bedsit and then stopped the car without making any move to get out. He simply turned and looked at her.
Hester felt threatened and her eyes hunted for the button that controlled the central locking system, but it was out of her reach. She watched, almost hypnotised, as he reached into his pocket to bring out the necklet and she saw his hand clench over it and contract into a fist. When he opened it, the fragile leaves lay crushed in his palm. Without a word, he dropped the mangled remains in her lap.
'Put it away—or better still, throw it away, I don't ever want to see it again!'
Hester fought back tears. Flo and Mia had given it to her last Christmas. As far as value—actual monetary worth was concerned, it didn't rate highly, but she treasured it. Flo was an avid 'catalogue' buyer and Mia had described the hours Flo had spent searching through the highly coloured pages for something pretty that didn't cost too much. Now it was ruined, and she thought she'd never forgive Demetrios for that.
Sorrow gave way to anger and her hands went to the back of her neck, her fingers busy with the small diamond-set gold fastener. It wouldn't open and she tugged viciously until she felt something give, the silk thread snapped and pearls went bouncing and rolling over the floor of the car.
Still in complete silence, she dragged the broken threads, still holding the intact clasp together, from about her neck and dropped them on his knee. When she judged her voice wouldn't tremble, her tightly folded lips parted.
'Vandal!' She spat the word at him. 'I know that as far as you're concerned my little leaves were rubbish, but I'm not like you, I don't value things for what they cost—and this,' she displayed the ruined leaves, touching them with gentle, trembling fingers, 'this was irreplaceable. It was given me in love and I'd have valued it if it had been bought from Woolies. You'll never be able to give me anything one quarter as valuable or precious.' Her voice broke. 'P-pick up your pearls if you w-want them. G-grovel for them! I'll never wear them again. Now open this car and let me out!'
'Where do you think you're going? You're now my wife, remember?'
'So I am,' she sounded bleak, 'but that doesn't mean we've been stuck together with glue. For your information, I'm going to hell, come with me if you want and I hope you enjoy the trip.'
She lurched against the door and it flew open, nearly sending her headlong on to the pavement, but she recovered quickly, dashing into the house and up the stairs as though the devil was at her heels—which he was; she could hear him just behind her and when she halted at her door to burrow in her bag for the key, he was beside her. No horns, forked tail or even a suspicion of a cloven hoof, of course—such outward signs weren't necessary. To anybody else, he was just a tall, well built, good-looking man, well dressed and in complete control of himself—but she—she'd just had a glimpse of what lay beneath the surface, and it frightened her!
She envied him that control. Hers had slipped and she was vaguely ashamed of her behaviour; it didn't go with the image she wanted to project—that of a self-possessed young woman with a skin as thick as a rhinoceros's, somebody who couldn't be hurt. With an enormous effort, she grabbed at her self-control so that when he held out his hand for the key, she could drop it into his palm with studied nonchalance and stand quietly while he opened the door for her. Her cases stood ready packed in the hallway and there was a medium sized cardboard carton in the middle of the living-room floor. Silently Demetrios picked up the cases and took them down to the car, coming back to look at the carton with disfavour.
While he was gone, Hester had been tempted to lock the door against him and stay there, but reason prevailed. Without those cases, she would have nothing to wear and nowhere to go except back to Poplar—which was unthinkable. She didn't want anything she'd done to even touch the edges of Flo's life. Look on this as a change of employment, she reasoned with herself. A different environment, different conditions and different duties—it would be easier that way.
'You don't want this stuff.' Contemptuously he kicked at the carton, which toppled over and disgorged her four cushions, covered with Mia's crocheted wool, and a couple of stuffed toys—a koala bear and a black lamb that Flo had made for her from offcuts of beaver
and Persian lamb.
'Where I go,' she said sullenly, 'they go. I won't move a step without them!'
He picked up the two toys and examined them, smoothing down the koala's well worn fur and running a gentle finger over the lamb which was not so well worn. 'Have it your way.' All signs of temper were gone and he sounded quite amiable. 'Come on, madam wife, I don't know about you, but I'm starving!'
In the underground carpark of the hotel, Demetrios frowned as he put a small key into the lock of the private lift which stopped only at the kitchens before it went on to the top of the building. The key wouldn't turn because the small illuminated arrow over the door showed in the 'up' position. To Hester this meant nothing, but seemingly, he was displeased.
'Arrogance!' she chided him bitterly. 'Not everything's set for you convenience.'
Evidently she'd upset him again, because he looked at her out of an expressionless face with hard, angry eyes.
'My convenience has nothing to do with it,' he said between his teeth. 'And if you haven't worked out what it means…' He shrugged, pressed the 'call' button and she heard the whine of the lift on the way down. When it stopped, he ushered her inside, the door closed and in the confined space she heard his voice like the trumpet of doom.
'Where were you yesterday? I called three times, but each time you were out. Finally your landlady told me you'd left very early in the morning, saying you wouldn't be back until late.'
'Out!' She was brief but dignified.
'I also tried to contact your ex-employer,' his voice became silky. 'He seemed to have disappeared as well. All I received in the way of information was that he couldn't be reached.'
'So,' Hester shrugged as the lift stopped and she walked out into the corridor, 'you add two and two together—in this case, one and one. It doesn't matter if you get the wrong total because the answer's bound to be right if you've done the addition.' She was lofty in her displeasure.
The Daughter of Night Page 6
